


Lupines Always Find a Way To Grow

by svetzzi



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Angst, Green Jacket Arsène Lupin III, Lupin III - Freeform, Manga Lupin III, Other, green jacket
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29516706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svetzzi/pseuds/svetzzi
Summary: Lupin III in his adolescence dealing with some tough feelings, past memories, and a dash of denial.
Kudos: 10





	Lupines Always Find a Way To Grow

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 1 of my first (and incredibly short :"o) )Lupin III fic! Part 2 will be out as soon as possible (and hopefully be a little longer). Hope you enjoy!
> 
> -Svetz

* * *

The Grand Hall’s air was stagnant with the stench of his grandfather’s hookah smoke. No real plans today, as the young man was already currently in some asinine bind with his last robbery- so, time to stay low until sheer boredom drives him up the wall. Not like he was a pro at this yet- no. No undermining himself, _what a useless thing to ponder,_ he thought. He tapped at the velvet carpet with his black dress shoe, looking down at its dark brown bloodstains and squinting with contempt. No matter how posh his family tried to keep the place, the skeletons in their closets are always able to leave their subtle traces behind.

The boy turned his head to the side, readjusting his golden tie and placing some of his long dark bangs behind his left ear as he began to trot down the hall. His face was still scrunched and pouting, telling all there was one needed to know about what was going on in Arsène Lupin III’s mind. _Boredom-_ Lord, what a nightmare. He stopped in his tracks when the carpet ended. The smoke grew thicker around him and his shoulders sunk. Something felt worse at the end of The Grand Hall, and Lupin’s head was too cloudy to find the reason why. Nothing was out of place (including all their prized stolen statues, paintings, and vases). This wasn’t normally like him; was he ill? 

He realized.

_Oh God. Don’t look at it, you idiot, you know what it is, you’ve seen that shit a million times for YEARS! This is so stupid-!_

It was as if a specter forced him to look up to the left, his matter disobeying mind. Lupin’s reeling train of thought fell blank, his face like an open book as he stared up at the large painting covered by a beige sheet. It felt as if all his blood sank down from his body and pooled onto the floor when that godforsaken blank tarp kept staring back at him. All it told him were taunts and mockery. As the seconds passed it told the boy more, gently whispering names and titles in his ears that made his brow twitch and his blood boil. Sweat dripped and Lupin gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw shut as he silently begged to think about _anything_ else. 

His body shaked and acted on impulse once more, charging towards the art and tearing the tarp from the piece, causing the frame to become askew despite how heavy it was. With his near-black hair in his face, all he was capable of doing in that moment was to grip onto the torn fabric for dear life, and to hold back whatever was spiraling further in his head from escaping into reality.

_Why did she leave me alone with him?_

_Why do I even care? I can take care of myself! I always have!_

_Fuck, he’s in prison! Why does this even concern me?_

_I am THE Lupin III! THE Phantom Thief! I don’t need these people!_

_Why am I so weak over this?_

_This isn’t me. Is it?_

_Why is this so…_

_Why…_

Splattered magentas, ambers, and dim cyans danced throughout the sky, having attached themselves onto the wispy cloudscape. Lupin stumbled down the hill, tripping on his emerald jacket that was all too big for him. Scraped with dirt and grass stains, the boy laughed it off and got up. He went back to running around for the thrill of it, giggling and seemingly unbothered by his burning and bloody kneecaps. 

“Arsène-Chan!” His mother called from afar. 

Her bold yet pleasant tone was all too familiar to her child. Lupin ran over to her, still chuckling here and there. He looks up to her with his (seemingly) innocent smile, his cheeks rosy and speckled with dirt.

“Honey, why are you wearing that? I got that for when you’re a bit older, silly.” She snickered under her breath, “Here, let me help you with uh, whatcha got goin’ on.” His mother wagged her finger in a circular motion, pointing out Lupin’s- well, everything.

The rickety cabin’s worn floorboards creaked with each step. Yet another new ratty little place Lupin and his mother would stay until the police or his dad caught up with them. He never complained though, this was just life, and a life too young to know of anything different. The woman held her son’s hand and led him to the bathroom, which honestly seemed more like a bigger-than-average outhouse that happened to have a tub and toilet in it. The kid stayed silent and observant as his mother undressed him for his bath. Her long wavy hair and sharp irises were both the colour of fresh fertile soil, ready to bring life to whatever flower that desired to bloom. 

The hot water pierced Lupin’s stinging knees. He winced and whined for comfort but his mother refused to react, instead beginning to scrub lupin’s scruffy head with shampoo. Only the sound of splashing water resonated between parent and child until the woman spoke.

“Sweetheart, do you know of the lupin flower?” She thought of more to say but held back for his response. 

He turned his head into her view with his face lit up, “There’s a flower named after me?”

“Mhm!” she exclaimed, amused. “It’s a very special flower, too. One you should always keep close to your heart.”

Lupin’s brow dug down into a puzzled look, but his signature smile remained. He turned his head away and shut his eyes instinctively the second his mom tilted his head back and poured water on his head to wash the shampoo out. 

“It symbolizes happiness, outlook and adventure, though most importantly, healing. These flowers run through our blood!”

“Really? Healing from what, mama?”

The woman paused and stopped scrubbing his back. Her son noticed how her eyes darted away from him for a split second; she was hesitant.

“Like my knees?”

“Yes sweetie, that’s… that’s why you’re my little Lupin.” 

She gave him a reassuring smile and went back to washing.

His mother had forgotten to mention how the poison would flow through the young man’s veins just as much as the “outlook and adventure” did. It was real, seething, and pumping just as strong as the tears that poured from his eyes. He tried his best to be quiet and go unnoticed if anyone happened to walk into the hall, but he could not help but choke on his own grief.

Lupin dropped the tarp and fled.


End file.
